


We Are Become Life

by b00ksandcleverness (Asylum)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 3x07 rewrite, Clever Writes, Clexa, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Jus drein jus daun, Some surprising characters will be appearing, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6438322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asylum/pseuds/b00ksandcleverness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 100 as it should have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Are Become Life

**Author's Note:**

> First: I am not a doctor. This first bit is me going off of having watched E.R. and Grey’s Anatomy, plus a bit of Googling. So, not much of anything. 
> 
> Second: Fuck Jason Rothenberg. With a Cactus. Made of metal. Up the Ass. Then thoroughly apologize to the cactus. 
> 
> Third: Stand back fam. Imma fix this shit.

Clarke felt hot and cold all over. 

Was it just moments ago she’d learned what bliss felt like? Lying in bed with Lexa, reveling in the feel of her soft skin, her warm breath, lyrical voice? Or was it years? Was it a dream? This reality felt so jarring, she wasn’t sure anymore. Her eyes were locked on Titus’s trembling hand, mind blank as it fumbled to process what was going on. 

Titus had a gun. And she was pretty damn sure he was going to use it. But why? Why would he sabotage….Gunfire wiped thought from her mind and urged her into frantic motion, ducking to avoid a spray of debris from the errant bullet. 

Her mind switched to autopilot, her eyes still locked on the motion of Titus’s unsteady aim, trying desperately to distract or disarm him by throwing a chair. It hit him and shattered; she took her chance, darting to the other side of the room.

It was the sound of a door opening and soft footsteps that caught her attention. Even in chaos, she could sense Lexa.

_No. Please, no!_

Eyes still trained on the out of control weapon, she watched in horror as Titus’s hand swung wildly to the side, trying to anticipate where she would land with her next step. She turned on a dime just as the gun fired once more, lunging desperately towards Lexa to use her own body as a shield. 

Clarke felt the bullet bite into the back of her shoulder. Felt distantly as it ripped through her skin on the other side. Watched in horror as it pierced Lexa’s unprotected stomach.

“Lexa!”

Lexa’s surprised gasp of air seemed to echo more loudly in her ears than the gunshot. Time slowed for Clarke as she struggled to process what she was seeing; the dark hole in Lexa’s shirt. The stunned, frightened look on Lexa’s face. The horrifying truth that struck her as Lexa stumbled back with the force of the impact. 

Distantly, Clarke was aware of Titus crawling towards them.

“Heda…” 

No. No, this was not happening. This could not be real. Lexa’s hand came up to touch the wound, and her eyes met Clarke’s, and then drifted down to the bleeding wound. Her hand reached out as if to stem the flow of blood. When she spoke, her voice was full of surprised concern.

"Your shoulder..." 

Her body collapsed forward, hand still outstretched.

“No!” Clarke lunged forward, desperately trying to catch Lexa as Titus lunged forward to do the same. Panic surged through her, breath coming in harsh gasps, as she held Lexa’s body to her. Desperately, she tried to calm her mind, to think. She had to do something, had to assess the damage. Frustration surged through her as Titus leaned forward and obscured her view. 

“Help me get her to the bed.”

Her command was laced with the overwhelming terror she felt as she watched Titus lift Lexa’s body and carry her to the furs on Lexa’s bed. The furs she had just left, feeling Lexa’s eyes watching her depart. Was that just minutes ago? She leaned over the bed, eyes latching onto the dark patch under Lexa’s ribs. But...blood wasn’t flowing quickly, or in time with a heartbeat. That was good. 

Okay. She could do this. This was medicine. This was something she knew. She’d done this before. She took a deep, steadying breath. 

“I need something to stop the bleeding. Get me cloth, one damp, one that absorbs water, and a long one for my shoulder. Now!” 

She was distantly surprised when he did as she commanded without question. Her hands pressed against the wound, feeling Lexa’s hands coming up to cover hers. She tried to reassure her.

“Just lie still. You’re going to be ok, just lie still.” 

Lexa’s eyes caught hers, and Clarke was horrified to see a small drop of blood at the corner of her mouth. 

“Don’t be afraid.”

Don’t be afraid? Clarke was terrified, more terrified than she’d ever been. But that didn’t mean she was going to let anything happen to Lexa. She would die first. Her reply was cut off as Titus placed a wet cloth in front of her. She grabbed his hand roughly, pressing it to the wound. 

“Put pressure here, not too much, like you would to stop a child from squirming.”

She quickly bounded her shoulder tightly, as well as she could manage, and tied it off. Turning back to Lexa, she roughly pushed Titus out of her way once more, and got grimly to work. She ripped open Lexa’s shirt, wiping away the excess blood and surveying the wound.

Yes, the wound was slowly trickling blood, a good sign; that probably meant there wasn’t major internal bleeding. But the wound was not a through-and-through, which Clarke distinctly remembered was not a good sign. They needed to get the bullet out before it caused more damage. 

Frantically searching her mind for any information that would help her now, she was distracted by Titus laying out a red cloth and razor blade. Dread shot through her. 

“Put that away!” She snapped, her hands not waiting for his actions as she swept it from the bed, shoulder screaming in protest. “She’s not dying. Not now. Not today.” 

Her gaze was level despite the panic she felt, daring Titus to argue. The exchange was less than a moment; he lowered his eyes. 

Replacing the pressure on Lexa’s wound to stem the flow, she turned away from the man she most hated in the world. 

“Go untie my friend, and then find a stretcher. Anything we can transport her on. I’m taking her to Arkadia.”

“She can ride…”

“No. The movement of a horse might shift the bullet and cause more damage. We carry her by foot. Go.” 

She heard his footsteps fade, and glared fiercely into Lexa’s glassy eyes. Lexa was going into shock.

“You’re not dying today. Don’t you dare leave me. I’m the Commander of Death, remember? And I’m commanding death to leave you alone.” 

Lexa’s lips quirked in response. Footsteps stopped any reply she might have made as Murphy and Titus returned. 

“Murphy, go find Octavia. Tell her to ride as fast as she can to Arkadia; she needs to get my mom and tell her what happened. Have her bring her tools and whatever antibiotics she can carry. We’ll meet them at the edge of the forest. Hurry.” 

Murphy didn’t bother to reply, and left at a run. Clarke met Titus’ eyes once more. 

“Go find Nyko, and have him bring men that he trusts to carry her. We need to travel fast to meet my mother, and Lexa must be carried lying down.” 

He hesitated, glancing to Lexa’s prone body. 

“I said _go_.”

The act of making a decision had caused the panic to recede. Her voice and eyes were level, cold, and Titus shivered in his despair.

“Yes, Wanheda.”

Bowing his head, he spun on his heel and stormed from the room. 

Silence rang in her ears now. She could feel Lexa’s faint heartbeat under her hands, her breathing mercifully dry, though quick and sharp. From the little amount of bleeding from the wound, she was somewhat certain that no major arteries were damaged. If the blood on Lexa’s mouth was from a nicked lung, it was small and non-threatening. If bullet hadn’t punctured a lung, the blood could indicate internal bleeding. That’s what worried her most, but she needed her mother for that. Abby would be able to deduce that quickly. It was now, more than ever, she regretted not being able to finish her medical classes. Lexa’s soft voice brought her out of her head. 

“Clarke, your shoulder. You should…”

“Shh. Don't worry. I'm ok. Just be still. Don’t talk. I’m taking you to my mom; she’ll be able to sort you out. You’ll be fine.” 

She had to be fine. There wasn’t another option. 

Thundering steps alerted her to the approach of a group. Murphy led Nyko and four other warriors - 2 men and 2 women - all as burly as the healer into the room. Nyko, who was carrying what looked like canvas strung on two long wooden poles, bowed his head to her.

“Wanheda. Clarke. We are all trained in both healing and combat. It would be our honor to transport the Commander.” 

The others bowed their head in unison. 

“Thank you. We have to move quickly, but we must be careful. The bullet is still inside her body, and if it shifts too much, it could cause more damage. Help me get her onto the stretcher.” 

The warriors laid the stretcher on the bed beside Lexa, and worked to gently lift her onto it while Clarke steadily applied pressure, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. She knew she was losing blood, but ignored it. Lexa was more important. 

She turned to Murphy as they were leaving; she’d noticed that he’d somehow managed to snatch the discarded gun, and was glad for it. With a pointed look at Titus, she tried to communicate everything she was feeling in her gaze.

“Guard him. I promise we’ll talk when we get back. It’s good to see you, Murphy.”

They moved as one, working nearly silently as they guided the stretcher and it’s precious cargo down the tower and through the deserted back alleys of Polis. Clarke watched as Lexa’s eyes became more and more unfocused as they moved through the forest. She murmured to Lexa the entire time, trying to keep her conscious despite the fact that shock had firmly set in. 

Finally her eyelids started drooping, and Clarke’s voice got stronger. 

“Don’t you dare go to sleep, Lexa. Keep your eyes on me, okay? You’re not allowed to sleep until I say so.” 

Lexa’s grin was weak, her voice quiet. 

“Are you commanding me now, Clarke?”

“I’m Wanheda, remember? I command Death. And right now, I’m commanding death to leave you alone, so you’d better keep your damn eyes opened. You got it? I’m right here. Just stay with me.” 

Lexa’s eyes trained drowsily on hers, gazing up at Clarke as if she were the only thing in the world that mattered. Clarke desperately tried to ignore how her hands were stained black with Lexa’s blood. Tried to ignore how the once white rag was now pure black. Tried to ignore the lightheaded feeling creeping through her conscious, the feeling of blood trickling down her back. They were running out of time. Both of them.

It seemed to take them hours to reach the strip of forest. Clarke stumbled over every twig she came across, but stubbornly kept steady pressure on Lexa’s wound, kept murmuring nonsense to her, kept her eyes locked on Lexa’s.

When they finally made it to the meeting place, they carefully placed Lexa’s stretcher on the soft leaf strewn ground under shelter of the trees. Not a minute passed before they heard the pounding of hooves. 

Octavia was riding like the flames of Hell were chasing her, and Clarke loved her the more for it. Abby was holding on for dear life behind Octavia, med bag strapped to the saddle in front of them both. 

“Mom!” 

Her voice was ragged from constant use and blood loss and fear. Relief surged through her now; Abby could help. Would help. Had to help. Clarke’s job was over, for now. 

Octavia brought the horse to a skidding stop, hooves throwing dirt into the forest. Abby slid off, grabbing the medical bag and opening it as she approached. 

“Clarke! Your shoulder! What happened?”

Clarke shook her head. 

“That’s not important right now. I’m not the one who needs help. It’s Lexa. She’s...in bad shape. You can look at me after, just help her. Please.”

“Okay. I will. Tell me what happened.”

Abby’s voice was calm, firm. She was in her element, and Clarke took reassurance from it.

“Gunshot. Left side, under her ribs. Didn’t go all the way through. I don’t think there’s internal bleeding, but it might have nicked a lung. She’s gone into shock already. Her blood is black, part of her lineage. ” 

Her words were sharp as she spit them out, hating each and every one of them, the way they sounded in her voice, the way they felt on her lips. This wasn’t right. 

She grabbed her mother’s arm as she passed, gripping tightly and glaring into her eyes. 

“Help her. Please. She’s… She has to be alright.”

Abby nodded, and squeezed Clarke’s hand. 

“I’ll do my best.”

Removing the saturated cloth from Lexa’s wound, she squirted and antiseptic solution on the skin, and wiped it off quickly. She gently pressed around the area, feeling ribs and internal organs, then bent her head to listen to her breathing. 

“Okay. I think you’re right, baby. No internal bleeding. That’s good. One rib might be cracked, but I won’t be able to tell that until she’s fully conscious. The lung will heal on it’s own - that’s not anything major, either. What worries me most is the blood loss, and the fact that I’m going to need to get that bullet out, which opens her up to a greater risk of infection.”

She caught Lexa’s unfocused gaze. 

“I’m going to fix you up, Commander. But it’s going to hurt.” 

Lexa blinked slowly, once, then nodded. 

Abby looked at the 5 warriors. 

“I need you all to hold her down. I am going to cut the wound to enlarge it and ensure I get the bullet and any fragments that might be in there. I don’t have anything that will numb the pain, and until she passes out I need you all to make sure she stays absolutely still. Do you understand me?” 

They all nodded silently, and moved closer to place their hands gently on their beloved leader. 

Abby turned to Clarke. 

“Talk to her. Keep her with you. Try and keep her calm. That’s the most important thing right now, keeping her calm. Her heart rate needs to be as normal as possible, okay?”

Clarke nodded, and knelt by Lexa’s head. She reached out to stroke her hair, running fingers over the intricate braids, massaging her scalp. She held Lexa’s gaze once more. 

“Stay with me.” 

Her voice was a whisper, a plea. She saw the flash of metal from the corner of her eye as her mother found her scalpel. She cupped Lexa’s cheek as best as she could, running her thumb gently along one defined cheekbone. She knew Lexa needed to know what the situation was, so she started talking as the scalpel was lowered to Lexa’s skin.

“She’s going to cut into the wound, make it larger, so she can get the bullet out. She needs to check for fragments of metal, too, since some bullets break apart. Then she’ll…” 

Lexa let out a high pitched whine of pain, shutting her eyes as her body tensed to pull away from the hands holding her. 

“Hold her!” 

Abby commanded firmly, not letting up on the pressure of the knife. 

“Lexa! Stay with me. Open your eyes, Commander.”

Lexa’s breath was coming in gasps, but she obeyed Clarke’s request. 

“That’s it. There you are. I’m here. Just breathe. It’ll be over soon, okay? I promise. I’ll always be right here.” 

Lexa gazed at her as if she were the only hope left in the world. 

“Okay. I’m going to remove the bullet now. This is going to be the worst part.” 

Abby wasn’t lying. Lexa’s body convulsed, trying desperately to escape the pain. Her eyes shut tight as she tried to pull away, turned her face from Clarke’s hand. 

“Lexa!” 

“Keep holding her, it’s shifting. She needs to be still.” 

“Lexa, don’t you _dare_ leave me!.” 

Clarke was shouting now, trying desperately to get Lexa to open her eyes, to calm down. She knew if she could get Lexa to just look at her…

She leaned down, brushing her lips to Lexa’s, and Lexa’s eyes opened, feverishly locking on hers.

“I love you, Lexa kom Trikru. Don't you dare leave me now. I may be Wanheda, but I can't fight death alone. I need you.”

Lexa nodded once, and fainted. 

“Lexa? Lexa?!” 

“Clarke, it’s ok. We’ve got the bullet. All I need to do now is sew her up and pump her full of antibiotics. She needs rest, and to be watched, but she should be fine.” 

Clarke watched her mother’s face for any sign of uncertainty. 

“You’re sure?”

Her voice was mere shreds. Her mother nodded, and Clarke closed her eyes. 

“Thank you.” 

She whispered, and followed Lexa into a dead faint.


End file.
